Queen of the Headphone Zombies

Requiem

ZOE

Do I Wanna Know? // Arctic Monkeys

The smell of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies greets me at the door. I honestly never thought I'd see the day that Dragon Lady would take on the role of homemaker. I'm half convinced I'm going to walk in on her in the kitchen with a full white fluffy apron covering a puffy skirt, 1950's style. She's at the counter scooping dough with a spoon and setting them on a cookie sheet, her black hair piled high in a tight bun and her, almost one size too small, gray designer suit bursting at the seams.

I shake my head at the sight. If I was myself today, I would have commented on the entire look she's got going on. Ridiculous. But I'm no where close to the smart ass I usually am, so I remain silent.

The look on her face as she places the perfect mound of dough in perfect little rows is beyond comical. It's okay if I eat like crap, but Dragon Lady's body is a temple. She doesn't believe in eating fats, or sugar, or anything resembling human food. Yet somehow, she stays alive consuming nothing but mud colored shakes.

Once again, if it was a normal Monday, I would have burst out in laughter at the expression on her face, and that would have pissed her off, and we would have started to fight. Our relationship is always full of thinly veiled sarcasm hidden beneath a layer of totally forced politeness. Or it's boiling over, like a pot left on the stove too long. The fighting usually happens whenever my father is away, but I don't have the energy to fight with her today. Who would when they've just knocked on death's door?

I take a seat at the table and I pour myself a glass of milk. I'm not up for any verbal barbs, so I sit quietly drinking it.

My passivity seems to confuse her. Her expression goes from annoyance to surprise. She clears her throat before she asks, "Do you have a band thing today?"

"It's called practice." My stomach rolls thinking about it. I may have found some type of inner fire this morning, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to spend hours with my new mortal enemy.

"Right. What time do you expect to be back?"

"Usual time," I say not meeting her gaze. My eyes shift to the plate of cookies. The food smells good, but I can't bring myself to eat. My appetite has been up and down ever since the words, I don't love you anymore left his lips. The alien, soul sucking lips. I'm not one to eat my feelings--more like starve them out. But this Dylan diet has been ridiculous. I'm down at least five pounds from two weeks of hardly eating. And looking at the cookies Dragon Lady is trying to temp me with hasn't changed the status of my appetite.

This morning I felt sick at the thought of seeing him, seeing him with her. I knew they would be there, at school, together walking down the halls. I didn't expect them sucking lips and pawing at each other in an almost pornographic display every time I passed their lockers. God, the constant PDA they felt necessary to display all day. They sat side by side in the cafeteria at lunch, feeding each other and licking food off of each other's fingers until a proctor kicked them out of the cafeteria. The demon had the nerve to look proud as shit that they'd been asked to leave for their nauseating display.

Suddenly, the desire to slink back to my room is almost overpowering and I'm frozen for a moment with indecision. School is one thing, but band rehearsal is closed quarters, no proctors to kick them out. And the rest of the band could care less that the drummer broke the lead singer's heart.

"Zoe, it will get better, you'll see. Just give it time."

I don't know who is more surprised by her words. It's the first time she has ever addressed me with any real kindness and I can feel the tears swell in my eyes. But I won't cry in front her. I would rather die than cry in front of her.